


Connections

by Ringshadow



Series: Trickster Souls [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Sentinel
Genre: Addiction recovery, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Guide Powers, M/M, Sentinel Senses, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Tony hates Justin's computers, but likes Justin's cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ringshadow/pseuds/Ringshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Change is good.<br/>Change is difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connections

Justin leaned on the wall, watching the movers carry in the sparse collection of possessions he cared about. The hardest part had been moving his wardrobe, after that it was a matter of boxing a lot of books and packing up his drawing desk and computer. The movers had also packed the bookshelves, heavy modern things that they were. For now, his whole life was being tucked into Tony’s guest room, even if he wasn’t even really sleeping there.

 

It’d taken two days for him to realize yeah, Tony was right, and to okay a moving crew.

 

“You realize you won’t be getting rid of me now.” He pointed out, taking a long drink from the fruit smoothie in his hand. JARVIS had found recipes online for him, and Pepper had brought him a container of supplements to mix in along with a somewhat obscene amount of fruits and vegetables.

 

“You realize I don’t want to get rid of you.” Tony scoffed in reply. “Come on, man, this is my idea, I’m obviously for this.”

 

“Change is hard.” Justin admitted. “I just keep telling myself this is for the best.”

 

“You’re moving into the most high-tech house on the planet and you like it here anyway.” Tony’s look was concerned. “You’re not unhappy about this are you?”

 

“No. Though I have no doubt my computer’s lifespan is numbered in hours.”

 

That made him laugh. “I’ve managed to leave your laptop alone but man, that tower’s got to go.”

 

“You’re a dick.” Justin rolled his eyes and paused when Happy hovered in the doorway. “Mr. Hogan.”

 

“Mr. Hammer.” Happy replied. “We have your cars moved in.”

 

“You were able to make room?” Tony asked

 

“Not a problem at all, everything was parked pretty spaciously downstairs anyway and it’s just three cars. I’m honestly surprised, it was a genuine pleasure moving them Mr. Hammer.”

 

“Okay, that I didn’t expect. Come on in Happy, I want to see what actually got your approval.”

 

Happy nodded and walked into the house proper then back down the stairs to the garage, Tony and Justin following. “Man, you don’t like me very much do you?” Justin observed.

 

“After what happened at the expo?”

 

“Relax, man. He’s not so bad now that he’s not drugged to his eyeballs.” Tony coded the door open and walked into his garage, walking down the center line and pausing in front of the three new additions. “Okay. Rolls Royce Wraith, I’m not surprised by that.”

 

“Bit pretentious even by my standards, but I got a deal.” Justin admitted. “And it’s a goddamn gorgeous piece of machinery.”

 

“I feel like your other two cars kind of outshine it though.” Tony replied, staring at them. “I’m just fine with having these in my garage.”

 

Justin only shrugged. The dark grey Rolls looked odd parked between his other two cars, but, what could he do. One was a flat black 1952 Chevy pickup truck (he liked the flat black paint, he felt like it was a touch of rat rod), and the other was a white 1959 BMW 507.

 

“Do you not believe in owning a car with color on it?” Tony asked after a beat, looking back and forth.

 

“It’s just kind of how it ended up being.” He admitted, almost laughing. “And I think it’s a rule that guys like us have to own at least one bimmer.”

 

“Might be. Thanks, Happy.”

 

“You sure you don’t need me boss?”

 

Tony nodded after a moment. “I’m sure. I got it from here.”

 

The movers left, leaving Justin standing in Tony’s guest room, looking around at the sparse number of boxes that was his life before this. And it made him strangely _angry_. It was something of an out of body experience unto itself. He was uselessly pissed off at how his life had turned out and piled into it all was the old, old guilt that he shouldn’t be upset. He’d had a good life, right? He’s wealthy, he was a corporate VIP, he still had respect from a lot of people. But somehow, here he was.

 

The crash of his computer smashing into the wall brought Tony running from the garage, only to find Justin curled in a ball in a corner among boxes of books, hands fisted into his short hair and panting for breath, a dent in the drywall and the tower of the computer in disarray under it. He didn’t question, just shoved a box over and knelt, wrapping his arms around Justin and shielding him from the outside world, pressing close to his shields until he was let in and satisfied to see the mountain cabin still stood solid.

 

“That was not productive.” Justin finally got out after almost ten minutes of lost, half-drowning silence.

 

“No. No it wasn’t.” Tony agreed. “But do you feel better now?”

 

“Strangely, yes.”

 

“Good! Awesome. Come on, get your ass up, you can help me build your new computer. I mean, that one was on the way out anyway.”

 

Justin mustered a smile, so relieved that Tony wasn’t pushing, and knowing Tony could feel it.

* * *

 

 

Tony didn’t ask, but as they put together a work station for Justin in the garage, moving Tony’s around so it’d easily accommodate two people with independent screens, sharing the wire frame projection desks between them, he did pause and look at Justin. “For the record, if the worst thing I did while angry was trash a computer, I’d have a much better reputation.”

 

He couldn’t help it, he started laughing, leaning on the surface of the desk and putting his face in his hands before looking back at Tony. “I don’t even know why I did it.”

 

“You said it yourself. Change is hard.” Tony shrugged. “I mean, you got yourself stuck with an alcoholic superhero, and then you decided to move in.”

 

He snorted. “Right. Do you mind if my drawing desk is actually in your living room by the windows?”

 

Tony considered, nodding left-right once, tapping a screwdriver on the desk. “Better light. And I don’t exactly entertain too often anymore. We can probably move some furniture a bit and get you some actual space up there. You actually work in pencil?”

 

“Yeah, it’s mind-clearing to me. A place to start before I move my work into CAD style renderings. It’s easier to work on paper first, for me.”

 

“My first Iron Man suit was drawn on scrap paper.” Tony said. “In a piecemeal way because I was literally under the gun.”

 

Justin blinked. “Something about that new missile design you had right?”

 

“Yeah, the Jericho. “ He considered. “Sudden thought. You know how to fight at all? I could use a sparring partner and you need to vent some frustration.”

 

“Not really? Just real basic self-defense and barely that.”  He shook his head. “Guns I know, and I did some boxing stuff but I wasn’t very good at it.”

 

“Well, too bad for you. I’m throwing you to Happy starting tomorrow.” Seeing Justin’s expression he put up a hand. “You need to know how to protect yourself.”

 

“Yeah it’s not a bad idea but I’m a CEO, not a superhero.”

 

“You’re a sentinel. You need to know this.” Tony watched as Justin huffed and shoved away from what he was doing. “Oh, come on man are we back to this again?”

 

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I’m going to go set up my drawing desk.”

 

He blinked, leaning and watching as Justin walked away and left the garage, heading up the stairs. “I’ve had a lot of people not-upset at me lately.”

 

“If you’ll forgive me sir, I’m really not sure how that’s any different than normal.” JARVIS remarked.

 

Tony snorted. “Give Agent a ring for me will you?”

 

“Certainly sir.”

 

Six rings later there was a soft pickup, and Phil’s voice came on the overhead. “I’m in Brazil so I do hope this is good.”

 

“Brazil? What the hell are you doing in Brazil, getting a tan?” Tony wanted to know. “Dude, don’t trust any of the women down there, there’s a huge AIDs epidemic because of bad medical practices with needles or some shit.”

 

There was a pause. “Clint knew it was you just from my expression and he’s laughing.” Phil sounded sour. “We’re working. I can’t say anything else. What do you want?”

 

“You’re one of the few other guides I know man and the only one in on my situation. You got a minute?”

 

“I might. Putting you on speakerphone. Hammer’s not settling down I take it?”

 

“I don’t even know. He’s currently got the personality of a fifteen year old guy pissed off at his dad.” He hunted for words. “He’s formlessly angry.”

 

“It’s not a sentinel thing if that’s why you’re calling.” Clint said. “At least I don’t think so. This sounds more like a broken-person thing. Still the voice of experience talking.”

 

“Yeah I get what you mean, but how can I fix it?”

 

“Stark, you can’t fix it.”

 

“Bullshit. I can fix anything, I just need to know how.”

 

“You’ve done all you can. You’ve put him in as good of a situation as you can. You helped him get off the drugs, you’re offering support. He’s got to do the rest himself.” Phil said this, very carefully.

 

He put his face in his hands. “That’s. That’s not good enough. Not nearly good enough.”

 

“Come on, man, he needs time.” Clint pointed out.

 

“Our companies don’t have endless time for us to lollygag around.”

 

“If you force it, it won’t work. It’s like two halves a well-oiled machine, if you keep smashing the gears together trying to mesh it damage is going to be done. For once in your life try to be patient. He’s got reason to be angry, sounds like every person in his life up to now betrayed the part of him that’s strongest but most easily hurt. He needs to feel that out on his own. The fact at you called me says a whole hell of a lot about how hard you’re trying.” Phil sighed. “I need to hang up this line. We’ll be back in the states a few days.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Thanks for picking up. Enjoy the beach.”

 

“We are nowhere near the beach.” The line disconnected.

 

Tony sat back. “Those two frighten me.”

 

“You tend to make friends with a very particular brand of people sir, and they tend to be people you don’t want to be on the bad side of.” Jarvis pointed out.

 

“Yeah yeah. What’s Justin up to?”

 

“Currently, he’s hiding under the covers of your bed.”

 

“… Right then, when he decides to come out let him know I’m here if he needs me.”

* * *

 

 

Justin wasn’t sure how long he laid under the covers and drifted. He’d retreated to the bed because it smelled like Tony and he was able to shut out the world for the moment, just burrow down in the scent of his guide and daze out. Eventually it’s hunger that brings him out of it and he sat up groggily, shoving to the edge of the bed and putting his glasses on, scratching a hand through his hair as he wandered up the stairs. He’s aware of quite a lot of voices upstairs, Pepper, Tony, and several more and while he recognized them as familiar, he just didn’t care. He was hungry and he needed meat and he’d seen raw steak in the fridge. This is an equation he can easily solve.

 

“Mr. Hammer!” Called a voice and he started out of his train of thought, staring across to see a gathering of people in the living room, probably nine overall and he picked three out as members of his board.

 

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He asked, making a beeline for the coffee machine. “I think we’re kind of informal right now, you can call me Justin. What is going on?” He considered the mugs then the fact that the carafe was nearly empty and just drank out of the carafe.

 

“Classy.” Tony was laughing, unable to help it. Justin had bedhead and still looked somewhat sallow, and was clearly not entirely awake but at least he was in a better mood for all appearances.

 

“Waste not.” He rinsed out the empty carafe then refilled it with water. “Really, come over here, I’m hungry and not leaving the kitchen until I do something about that.”

 

“Not exactly stepping into your office but I’ll take it.” The same board member said, walking over, her heels clicking on the floor and taking up a position sitting on the far side of the counter. The rest of the group drifted after her. “You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks. I think.” Justin had the fridge open and gave her a look. “Okay, so beyond the obvious parties I see three members of my board, is the rest of the peanut gallery members of your board Tony?”

 

“Right in one. They’ve started talking, which I fully support obviously with the understanding the merger hasn’t happened yet.” Pepper said. “So far the only conclusion reached is that all the shareholders are upset.”

 

“So how did everyone end up here, then?”

 

“I was already here to talk to Tony, everyone else arrived about half an hour ago.”

 

“We mostly wanted to see you were alive.”  One of the men explained. “Your scary Feeb friend told us your situation in some broad terms. Honestly I think some of us always had a good idea that there was something up with you but no one wanted to say. Not to say we were making the leap to ‘drugged sentinel’.”

 

“Great, glad to hear I’ve been living under rumors of being a barely in control cokehead.”  Justin half smiled. “Well now you know that’s not true at least.” He dropped the paper-wrapped steaks on the counter beside a pile of onions.

 

“More important. What are you cooking? I thought you couldn’t cook?” Tony said, much more interested in that.

 

“I’m going to make steak sandwiches with caramelized onions and a Tobasco-based sauce.”

 

“You better be cooking two.”

 

“So, I can carry on a conversation and use a knife at the same time. What’s actually happening?” He made a mental note to rearrange Tony’s kitchen, opening and closing cabinets, eventually finding a pair of pans and a cutting board.

 

“We can’t do much until the merger actually happens but we’re trying to iron out what we can. The main problem right now is the market seems to think our future is uncertain, so the prices are dropping. It doesn’t help that both of you have practically been underground, entirely out of public eye.” One of Tony’s board said, an older man with silvering hair. “So the stockholders are baying for blood, naturally.”

 

“That has to be expected with any large change though right?” Justin said, bringing down a chef’s knife and hacking an onion in half. “Let alone a partnership or merger of this level.”

 

“We understand that but the shareholders don’t seem to.”

 

“The main problem is we don’t have a time line.” Pepper explained.

 

“I was trying to explain that it’s hard to set a timeline for this, given what we’re dealing with is your medical condition.” Tony put in.

 

“Accurate. Physical chemical withdrawal and arguably related psychological traumas.” Justin sighed, putting heat to one of the pans and adding oil and salt before starting to toss onions in as he cut them up. “I can say I’m trying to do what I can but I have bad days. I recognize there is a time pressure element but what has to happen cannot be forced. That said, we’re lucky, there aren’t actually any projects urgently needing my attention for a few months. As long as we let the DoD guys know there might be a delay in development, we’re good.”

 

“We’ve been on top of that and keeping R&D running as smoothly as we can.” The woman sitting at the counter with Pepper and Tony replied. “We had contingency plans, we’re using them.”

 

“Good to hear it. I mean, without getting into details we can’t yet, this could prove really good for both companies. Tony’s got friends that I imagine want Stark weaponry back among other projects. There has to be contract potential there.”

 

“You didn’t even see the really fun stuff.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. “I can’t really get into it but some of the projects that got put on hold were actually awesome. They got shelved when the weapons did.”

 

Justin stared at him, then sighed and looked at his board members before returning to his breaking down of onions. “This is what I live with now.”

 

“You’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you being a vaguely coherent but intelligent and vicious fuckhead.” Justin’s lady board member, Susanna, replied tartly. “This asshole here,” she pointed at Tony, “Has spent the entire time I knew of him being a drunken coherent fuckhead and still took us to the cleaners repeatedly. You living with this guy will do us nothing but good, or at least, it’ll be fun to watch from a safe distance.”

 

Tony stared at her then looked at Justin. “If you don’t want her anymore I’ll hire her.”

 

“No.” Justin pointed his knife at Tony then cleaned up onion remains, unwrapping the steaks. “in summation, shareholders upset, boards holding steady, position tenuous but a bright future possibly ahead. Can we all agree with that?” Everyone nodded. “I can’t say we’re going to rush, but I think Tony and I understand we shouldn’t drag our toes on this.”

 

“We’ll call some shareholder meetings, present that as a slightly more polished line of thought.” Suggested one of Tony’s board.

 

“Sounds good. We’ll keep in touch and when the situation changes, you’ll know.”

 

Pepper saw the group out, chattering with them as they walked and once the door was closed behind them sighed, taking off her heels and padding back over. “That could have gone a lot worse.”

 

“Glad to see you’re in a better mood, man.” Tony said, watching Justin pour himself an actual mug of coffee, then another when he saw Tony’s meaningful eyebrow quirk.

 

“Yeah, sorry about earlier.”

 

“Change is hard.” He repeated easily, accepting the mug and watching Justin trim the steaks up. They were top sirloins and barely needed any work at all. “So at what point are you going to stop lying to me and admit you can cook?”

 

Justin scoffed, rummaging and finding a pepper grinder and bowl. “Here, do something useful and grind off a lot of pepper.” He said, shoving both items at Tony, who took them dubiously. “I wouldn’t consider myself any sort of cook. What I do know, mostly Sam taught me.”

 

“Your sister?” Tony said, obediently grinding pepper.

 

“Yeah. She came and stayed with me for a while in college, taught me a little bit about food and cooking. Mom always said men didn’t belong in the kitchen and dad tried to teach me how to grill but I was never that interested and I couldn’t have a grill at college anyway. Basically Sam taught me how to keep myself fed without giving myself food poisoning. I still eat out a lot these days, I mean I don’t have a lot of time to cook but when I can I might as well actually do something instead of heating something up that has enough sodium to preserve me for future generations.”

 

“Your sister sounds awesome.” Pepper decided.

 

“Yeah she is. I don’t see her very often. I try to keep out of their lives, I mean, I’m the rich relative and you know how it is when someone in the family has money, it brings obscure relations out of the woodwork.” Justin leaned and held out a hand for the pepper Tony had ground up, mixing a few other spices in and rubbing it right onto the raw steak. “They don’t need that drama. As it is my parents made some mildly infuriating requests.”

 

“Infuriating sounds like a very mild word for your parents.” Tony pointed out.

 

Justin snorted and stirred his onions. “Tell me about it. I got my sister and them a house, my sister was grateful enough to make a few mild requests. She asked for open plan and handicap friendly, because her husband’s sister has a back problem. Fair enough, I found something. Mom spent all my childhood opining about her dream home but when I buy the damn thing for her, they say they wouldn’t know what to do with such a house then donate it to the church.”

 

“This the same church that recommended you get sent to torture camp?”

 

“Right. Oh, it gets more awkward, trust me. The old preacher got cancer so they called me and asked if I was willing to help pay for the man’s treatment.” Justin shook his head, focusing on the onions in the pan. “I didn’t get a Christmas card for a few years.”

 

“I’m not looking forward to meeting your parents.”

 

“But you’re totally going to crash my nephew’s birthday party next month right?”

 

Tony smiled. “Yeah. We totally are.”

* * *

 

 

Pepper was sent on her way with a sliced steak sandwich wrapped in wax paper. Tony and Justin retired to the couch in the living room, holding plates under their faces to catch the occasional fallen drip of spicy sauce and onion as Tony channel hopped, eventually landing on trash TV which he said sourly was at least more honest in its premise than most major media.

 

That had led to a long discussions about news programs and they’d ended up pulling up youtube on the big screen instead, looking for what various terrible shows were saying about their current situation. Justin took their long-empty plates to the kitchen and got one of his drawing binders, pulling up his feet on the sofa and propping the binder on his bent legs as he scribbled. Tony sprawled on the rest of the sofa leaning on Justin’s shoulder, wiseassing at the videos and watching Justin draw interchangeably.

 

“Assault rifle maybe?” Tony finally said, seeing an upper coming together in bits and pieces. “I’m getting a couple different vibes from all that honestly.”

 

“Two different designs.” Justin said. “I don’t know which way I want to go and I don’t think they’ll combine well.”

 

“No?”

 

“I like the feel and overall appearance of the FN 2000.” Justin said, speaking with his hands, bringing both up to a rifle carry. “But I will always be a diehard fan of Kalashnikov.”

 

“Who isn’t?” Tony had to laugh. “Jarvis, kill this and bring up Lord of War will you?”

 

“Good movie.” Justin stabbed the air with his pencil to punctuate that thought. “Beautiful opening. It’s weird talking to you about all this man, I thought you got out for moral reasons.”

 

“It’s hard to really articulate.” He said after a moment as the movie started on the screen, the lights adjusting to leave Justin with a reading light over the couch. “Honestly, I want to be done being a war profiteer. It’s what my dad did, and I just… fell into it. Merchant of Death. I’d be nice if the Stark name stood for something else. That’s why I stopped production lines and we’ve survived. But on the other hand, there’s something very satisfying about designing a weapon. I mostly scratch that itch working on the Iron Man suits now.”

 

“Living vicariously through me, never thought I’d see the day.” He had to laugh, grinning at Tony.

 

Tony grinned back and there was a moment where time slowed, the backdrop of a bullet going through production surreal and harsh as puzzle pieces suddenly asserted between them, that tickle running through his core on a shaky inhale. And, for the first time in years, he froze. Justin was still trying to recover and it was already stated that neither of them were really into this what with discussing the whole concept of platonic bonds.

 

Justin was equally froze, hand tightening on the mechanical pencil, staring back as he felt their brainspaces open up against each other, the shields not so much crashing as folding away and waiting. He tapped the pencil helplessly a few times before realizing with resignation that if he didn’t get up the balls to do this now, he might never so he shoved his binder out of his lap and reached out, grabbing Tony and pulling him so their mouths crashed together.

 

The noise Tony made was lost in it, and it was barely a kiss because a whole lot of other things happened rapid-fire, his empathy struggling to recalibrate focus on Justin before he just gave up and reached out, dove in, grabbed Justin up and crashed off into the metaphysical abyss with him. He’d read up on what that moment of connection was like and this was nothing like it, this was being put to a foundry and forged. They both had reasonably strong fortresses and shields now, and now their psyches both went on attack, laying out new paths between, Justin laying out groundwork and Tony building for the sky.

 

They’d parted and were gasping for breath, foreheads leaned together, when Justin seemed to realize some serious shit had gone down. “So, when did we end up on the floor, and how did we lose forty-five minutes?” He asked, clearing his throat.

 

Tony blinked a few times, shifting to his knees and sitting on Justin’s stomach in the process as he assessed the situation. Yeah both still fully dressed but they’d somehow rolled off the couch, Tony sprawling on top of Justin. “Did we both zone out?”

 

“Signs point to yes.” Justin rubbed his eyes, looking inward and taking in the observatory that had taken over his little mountain cabin, only to be struck absolutely dumb by the fact that he was not alone. “Was that what you expected?”

 

“Uh, no. They do say it’s different for everyone?"

 

“Do they, I wouldn’t really know. You going to get off me anytime soon?”

 

“Mm, I would but I can tell you don’t actually care.” Tony smirked down at him and got a loose shrug in response. “So, not so platonic bond?”

 

Justin leveled a finger at him. “We’ll have to talk about that. I vote we take a few days and figure out how this really works before we go do any paperwork.”

 

“Agreed.” Tony shifted and stood, cracking his back. “Ice cream?”

 

“You’re going to make me fat.” He pouted, sitting up.

 

“That might be an improvement, your hipbones are like knives, dear god.”

 

“You are such an asshole.”

 

Tony laughed his way to the fridge. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

 

He could only smile after Tony. “Jarvis, can you restart the movie? Since we seem to have missed all of it.”

 

This time they both settled in and watched the life of a bullet, sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, not really saying anything. They’d talk seriously later, was the wordless decision reached. Right now they just needed to let it settle.


End file.
